Your Eyes Filled Me With Grace
by the milliner's rook
Summary: This is how a heart beats. Breaks.


And suddenly, Kagura has it—

* * *

 _Oh,_ Kagura thinks, her thoughts quietening. Like water, rippling still. She sits trapped in a field of flowers, and her control of the wind is waning. She can still summon a breeze under her fingertips, a hurricane if she wished, but she can feel the wind leave her, breath by breath. Kagura casts her gaze upwards and stares at the sky instead, realizing for the first time how small she is beneath it. _So this how a heart beats._

* * *

Kagura is not afraid.

She is dying, but she is not afraid of death.

Death is a freedom too, after all.

* * *

She would have liked longer, of course.

The pursuit of freedom is the only trait that she and her siblings share, as far as Kagura can tell. But Kagura—Kagura is the only one to taste victory so bittersweet. She is the only one to get what she's wanted all along.

She, alone, succeeded.

Kagura would have liked to familiarize herself with this lump of flesh that now beats within her. To have her heart back without miasma being pushed through her veins, and listen to the noise it made.

She used to listen to the sound of empty caves; teasingly sending puffs of wind towards the darkness filled mouths and wait for it to suck in the air. She'd wait for the pitiful sound, a wail, a howl, a gasp of air and smirk to herself.

At first, Kagura stayed for practise, to master the wind with a flick of her wrist, and learn the intricacies of her feather floating with her weight. It was enough for her to serve Naraku's will and test the strength of the wind. It empowered her, to know that she could shape the world with a twist of the fan. She was the wind, free to do whatever she liked. She laughed, delighted, basking in her conceit.

There was no need for her heart when she had the wind.

But thoughts of blind obedience and complacency could never last, not when Kagura has always wanted more than what she had.

Somewhere along the way, Kagura began to realize that however powerful the wind was, however many things it could bend and break, it could be stopped just as easily. The wind could never ravage apart the walls of Naraku's stone castle, no matter how times it tried. And yet, Kagura thought she could find a way. There had to be way.

She directed wind at the hollow caves less frequently afterwards, though she couldn't help herself from indulging, in between searching for someone to free her, and following Naraku's orders. There was something about that pathetic sound that served as a reminder, to continue chasing after this endeavour, however hopeless it might be.

The wind wailing in the caves was, Kagura reckoned, the closest thing to a heartbeat. The sound a heart should make.

Breathing, now, like the hollow caves, reeks of desperation.

A struggle to continue.

* * *

It doesn't feel right.

Her heart lodged behind her lungs, thudding clumsily in her breast, is heavier than she thought.

Kagura had imagined differently, surprise, surprise. To have her heart back, she'd likened it closer to a feather, a simple and weightless thing that suited her prettily and perfectly. It meant her freedom, to run rampant as she pleased. But there were moments, when she wondered, if it would go off kilter when a certain dispassionate dog demon glanced at her.

And now—

* * *

It's better and worse than she could have hoped for.

* * *

Would she have chased him, after she'd gained her freedom, and her use of him was over?

He'd let her stay, if she chose to visit, Kagura muses, oddly aware of how her heartbeat now softens, stills. It could be the poison, could be something else. He didn't like her much; immune to everything she tried to tide him over into helping her. Another stone wall that the wind could not move.

But he let her visit, those refined features composed and carved in silver, impassive at any angle profiled. He listened to her speak, then turned her away. So she left, and he did not watch her leave.

She has no need of him now, and Kagura doubts that Sesshoumaru would miss her at all.

* * *

Perhaps she would have stopped by, just to pester him one last time. She would have flattered herself that he remembered her, and that he glanced her way. Perhaps she'd forget how the light caught on his moon-kissed hair, and would seek him out for that moment. Perhaps she'd have seen him again, after. To marvel at her heart.

Perhaps she would visit Kohaku or Kanna instead.

Perhaps, if given the chance, she would have preferred to be by herself, like she is now.

* * *

Kagura is born yearning. She trades her heart for the wind, then trades the wind for her heart, and turns them into symbols that represent freedom, desperate to keep both. Meeting Sesshoumaru, she turns him into a symbol too, unable to help herself. It's all for naught in the end, because she isn't clever or careful enough to keep any of them.

* * *

And suddenly, Kagura has it all—

Her heart, the wind and Sesshoumaru.

* * *

Her heart flutters at the sight of him, at his words, at the implication.

 _I knew it was you._

It's nearly enough.

* * *

Strange, how everything stumbles into place in that moment.

* * *

 _Oh,_ Kagura thinks, quieter still as the time comes for them to part ways, and he sees her leave, _this is how a heart beats. Breaks._

All she needed was more time to accustom herself to her heart, and relish her independence beyond a flower field. Her limbs are as heavy as her heart, weighing her to the ground, a stone plummeting to the ocean floor. Would that she could move, she would—

She would do anything she wanted. Anything she wished.

But, Kagura supposes, smiling faintly, she is happy with the freedom she has, however brief, with the knowledge that she is free and tied to no one. She faces the sky once more.

And that is more than enough.

* * *

The part of her that retains control of the wind, Kagura grasps at with all her might, and concentrates. It will be her final gift, her triumph, the soundless breeze of a smile—

It will pass through Sesshoumaru, and he will feel it.

* * *

(And Sesshoumaru watches, the wind carrying her white feather far, far away.)


End file.
